A couple of wee recovery rides today, after yesterday's group perm, which was the main event of the weekend.
Newcastle-Newcastleton-Newcastle was an enticing prospect anyway, but I fancied riding up, since the forecast was for a stonking southerly in the morning (plus rain, but that seemed to be the order of the day however many forecasts you looked at).
I hedged my bets and booked a day return to Newcastle, but
4 o'clock 4.15 4.30 saw me rise from my bed, munch some porridge and hit the road. The rain wasn't that bad, the tailwind was fabulous.
I met Aidan and Dave (NOTP) at Newcastle Station, where we colonised Gregg's for breakfast. We weren't the most-peculiarly-dressed people there. The vague idea for us all to ride fixed had been somewhat short-circuited by Aidan fetching his trike, and I had to keep reminding myself that he had an extra wheel when riding beside him - to be honest, I never rid myself of that nervousness all day, so rarely rode beside him.
The wind remained mostly favourable up to Bellingham, but the drag across to Falstone and past Kielder Reservoir was hard going, becoming bloody murder after the turn SW towards Saughtree, Riccarton and Steele Road (Steele Road is named after the Kielder Railway, of which we passed the remnants - apparently it and Riccarton were only accessible via dirt tracks before the railways were built), as this was the highest point of the route, and the point where the rain was at its thickest and heaviest. We'd already had a good soaking through Wark, and I was just starting to feel, hardly dry, but approaching the point of being not completely wet. Typical.
I dropped off the back about 8 miles before Newcastleton, to take 5 and have a piss and a fag and some flapjack, but a bit of time off the bike was the main thing. Dave commented that the stretch was probably good survival training.
The cafe in Newcastleton was a welcome treat, not just for watching the sun appear and the wind swing around to a homeward-bound WSW, but for the massive feast of food which was laid before us. We did wonder whether we'd manage it all, but we did, and that was probably the greatest achivement of the day. Aidan had a haggis panini with chips and extra chips - we were definitely in Scotland.
What a difference on the way back - the clouds had cleared from the fells, the sun was out, and it was a different landscape entirely. The wind was still causing some fairly alarming creaks amongst the trees in the forest, but with the tailwind, we barely stopped on the way back, except in Kielder for the lads to get an extra receipt, and in Wark for another receipt and to text ahead that we were on our way to the pub. Nowt seemed to be open in Wark, so I took my only photos of the day for their proof of passage.
(yes, the wind did knock over my bike inbetween the two photos)
Actually, the sharp descent into Wark may have been my favourite moment of the day - Aidan was leaning waay out to make the corner on the chevronned descent on his trike, while Dave and I were spinning away like loons behind him. I commented that we must have looked like a circus troupe, and there was a driver in a VW who clearly did not know what to make of it, and stayed behind us for what felt like ages.
We made it back to the Keelman's in Newburn for a quick pint, and Dave and I rode back to Central Station for a not-terribly-late train. I had a really daft clipless moment on Scotswood Road, which can only have added to the circus troupe atmosphere. Dave's comment was "well-controlled".
A good day out. I was tempted to ride back, but my frugal side wanted to use the train ticket I'd paid for, and the A167 is hardly the most inspiring route, so it was an easy decision. 270 km on the clock.
https://www.strava.com/activities/275570007
